LOOK issue
aRUDE comment
ONLINE content
ARBITERS
Pube King John Waters' Real Life Reality Show interview by Brandon Judell
Room with a View Ismail Merchant's World Travels interview by Brandon Judell
Under the Influence Publisher Delano Greenidge interview by Samuel Jamier
Hard Love Edmund White’s Dark Culture interview by Brandon Judell
French Lieutenant's Woman Author Christine Orban's Faithful Lover
BEAUTY
Beauty Illustrated photography by Olivier Rose
A Girl's Best Friend jewelry photography by Kimio Takeyama
BON APPETIT
Questions For Daniel Boulud by Jody Emmet
Questions For Thomas Keller by Jody Emmet
FASHION
The Idealizing Vision photography by Olivier Rose & Kustaa Saksi
The Perfect Form Chado by Ralph Rucci Essay and interview by Iké Udé
The Conformist photography by Calliope
The Large Glass Aprés Duchamp photography by Norman Watson
Pop photography by Norman Watson
KULTURE & ART CINEMA
Being Sissy Eternal Ingenue Sissy Spacek interview by Brandon Judell
The Seducer Actor Stuart Townsend interview by Brandon Judell
Loosed Woman Ascending Star Kimberly Elise interview by Brandon Judell
Still Pretty Christopher Walken interview by Brandon Judell
PHOTOGRAPHY
Hot Stuff 30 Porn Star Portraits by Timothy Greenfield-Sanders interview by Stephen Greco
Intense Attraction Photographer Patrick McMullan interview by Patrick McDonald
ART
Miami Heat Craig Robins interview by Odili Donald Odita
LEGEND
Je t'aime Icon, Activist, Handbag, Jane Birkin interview by Brandon Judell
Stories of O King of Color and Cut Stephen Burrows interview by Patrick McDonald
OFF THE WALL GREEN IS OUR COLOR
Luigi Leonard Polla
Kenneth Lubbock
Reginald Van Lee
REVIEW
aRUDE Comment by Iké Udé
Shakespeare & Company The Bride and the Bachelors: Duchamp and Company interview by Da Costa Greenidge
Shakespeare & Company The Bride and the Bachelors: Duchamp and Company by Da Costa Greenidge book reviews by Da Costa Greenidge
Corrections
Telescope A close-up of the stars, notables, scenesters and picturesque dilettantes.
SHELTER & DESIGN
Design For Living Joe Nahem interview by Cator Sparks
Floral Design K.J. Dinnhaupt
STYLE
Pardon Our Apparance Young Lad circa 1910
Pardon Our Apperance Luigi Ontani circa 1970's
15 Minutes Plus Perennial Deejay and Producer Jerome Sydenham by Anicée Gaddis
15 Minutes Plus Hat-Maker Extraordinaire Rod Keenan by Cator Sparks
Element of Style aRUDE's template for style
Style File Precious Jewelry Designer Mish Tworkowski
Fantasy & Simulacrum Timothy Greenfield-Sanders
aRUDE comment
look_issue_jwaters.php
ONLINE content
ARBITERS
Pube King John Waters' Real Life Reality Show interview by Brandon Judell
Room with a View Ismail Merchant's World Travels interview by Brandon Judell
Under the Influence Publisher Delano Greenidge interview by Samuel Jamier
Hard Love Edmund White’s Dark Culture interview by Brandon Judell
French Lieutenant's Woman Author Christine Orban's Faithful Lover
BEAUTY
Beauty Illustrated photography by Olivier Rose
A Girl's Best Friend jewelry photography by Kimio Takeyama
BON APPETIT
Questions For Daniel Boulud by Jody Emmet
Questions For Thomas Keller by Jody Emmet
FASHION
The Idealizing Vision photography by Olivier Rose & Kustaa Saksi
The Perfect Form Chado by Ralph Rucci Essay and interview by Iké Udé
The Conformist photography by Calliope
The Large Glass Aprés Duchamp photography by Norman Watson
Pop photography by Norman Watson
KULTURE & ART CINEMA
Being Sissy Eternal Ingenue Sissy Spacek interview by Brandon Judell
The Seducer Actor Stuart Townsend interview by Brandon Judell
Loosed Woman Ascending Star Kimberly Elise interview by Brandon Judell
Still Pretty Christopher Walken interview by Brandon Judell
PHOTOGRAPHY
Hot Stuff 30 Porn Star Portraits by Timothy Greenfield-Sanders interview by Stephen Greco
Intense Attraction Photographer Patrick McMullan interview by Patrick McDonald
ART
Miami Heat Craig Robins interview by Odili Donald Odita
LEGEND
Je t'aime Icon, Activist, Handbag, Jane Birkin interview by Brandon Judell
Stories of O King of Color and Cut Stephen Burrows interview by Patrick McDonald
OFF THE WALL GREEN IS OUR COLOR
Luigi Leonard Polla
Kenneth Lubbock
Reginald Van Lee
REVIEW
aRUDE Comment by Iké Udé
Shakespeare & Company The Bride and the Bachelors: Duchamp and Company interview by Da Costa Greenidge
Shakespeare & Company The Bride and the Bachelors: Duchamp and Company by Da Costa Greenidge book reviews by Da Costa Greenidge
Corrections
Telescope A close-up of the stars, notables, scenesters and picturesque dilettantes.
SHELTER & DESIGN
Design For Living Joe Nahem interview by Cator Sparks
Floral Design K.J. Dinnhaupt
STYLE
Pardon Our Apparance Young Lad circa 1910
Pardon Our Apperance Luigi Ontani circa 1970's
15 Minutes Plus Perennial Deejay and Producer Jerome Sydenham by Anicée Gaddis
15 Minutes Plus Hat-Maker Extraordinaire Rod Keenan by Cator Sparks
Element of Style aRUDE's template for style
Style File Precious Jewelry Designer Mish Tworkowski
Fantasy & Simulacrum Timothy Greenfield-Sanders
JOHN WATERS pube king
interview Brandon Judell
John Waters photography Iké Udé click image to enlarge John Waters' trademark mustache is a tribute to Little Richard. His favorite childhood memory: visiting a scrap yard and discovering real blood in the seat of a wrecked car. Among his well-publicized eccentricities: subscribing to over eighty magazines and attending murder trials religiously.
Even more mirthful are Waters' self-referential quotes: "My hobby is extreme Catholic behavior — before the Reformation." "Some call me director, producer, filmmaker. I prefer to call myself 'Pube King.'" And, of course: "To me, bad taste is what entertainment is all about. If someone vomits watching one of my films, it's like getting a standing ovation. But one must remember that there is such a thing as good bad taste and bad bad taste."
An extreme example of good bad taste in Waters' latest epic, A Dirty Shame, which stars Tracy Ullman, Johnny Knoxville, and Chris Isaak as folks stuck in a town with a plague of sexual orgies only Dionysus could approve of. Slant magazine calls it "subversively wholesome." A typical line of dialogue: "Don't you find it weird that everyone in this town has a penis?"
What else would one expect from the director who gave us the late Divine in Pink Flamingos (1972), Female Trouble (1974) and Hairspray (1988)? (The very same Hairspray that's now a Broadway hit.) Add to the picture his seriously respected art exhibits, and John Waters might now be justly labeled the Leonardo de Vinci of sleaze.
The following chat took place in the Regency Hotel’s coffee shop.
Brandon Judell: Your photography, not surprisingly, incorporates movies into its subject matter. Those shots of Lana Turner taken from the rear, for example.
John Waters: Yeah, Lana Backwards.
BJ: Would you say your artwork parodies film as much as your film Pecker (1998) parodied the art world?
JW: Certainly. Oh, yeah. I collect contemporary art; it's my passion. I go to every show, I read about it. It's my other life. The art world liked Pecker — people thought it would be mad, but it was very, very supportive. I wasn't mean about it, but I think I nailed it. Is my art a parody? Sure. It's about the film business. It's using the vocabulary of contemporary art, which is not something that filmmakers are familiar with. And they should be. It's a very different world. But just because you like my films doesn't mean you have to like my art, or vice versa. I've kept it separate, and I'll continue to do so.
BJ: Everyone who's a Waters' fanatic is dying to see The Diane Linkletter Story, but it hasn't been shown in decades. (Divine starred as the ill-fated daughter of Art Linkletter, the host of "Kids Say the Darndest Things." She took acid and jumped out of a window.)
JW: It was an experiment. It was a camera test, actually — I had to test this camera, so we shot it. It was an "instant" movie, which started a trend, for five minutes. It certainly inspired the Cockettes' Tricia's Wedding. I'm surprised that they don't make them today; I don't know why they don't have "Jenna and Tonic." I think the New York Post had a lot about the Bush daughter when she was drinking. They could do Michael Jackson. They could do Uncle Ed, the guy in Philadelphia who collected dirty underpants from straight boys — who they got beer money from for twenty years, without telling, until they found his warehouse. These are great stories that could be instant movies. Roles that drag queens are dying to play. With all this digital equipment now, you could do a movie in a day, easily. With 16 millimeter, it was hard; you had to take it to the lab. You had to edit it.
BJ: IFC has a reality show called "Film School." Do you have the sense that there are too many people making films today?
JW: There are. I get a lot of films to watch; I can't watch them any more. I stopped saying yes to directors. They just kept piling up. They were mostly really bad. It's a terrible thing to say. That's okay; all you need is one that's fine. I don't like reality shows; I've never seen one. I'm a member of the Writers Guild, I'm in SAG, I'm in AFTRA. I'm for scripts with dialogue, with performances. My life is a reality show. Everybody has a great reality show if you go out, if you live a life. I think the only people who really love reality shows don't go out of the house. If you're a couch potato, then you watch it on television. I don't understand it. It's a mystery to me.
BJ: Now Polar Express is coming out for Christmas.
JW: What's that?
BJ: A feature cartoon that looks as though it's using human actors.
JW: Oh yes, they don't even need to have actors any more. I'm against that, too. Vehemently.
BJ: You've discovered many actors, but you've also employed a whole bunch Hollywood had turned its back on. Edward Furlong, for instance, who seemed to have disappeared until you gave him the lead in Pecker.
JW: Well, he was a child star who became older. The whole film got financed because of his extreme popularity in Japan.
BJ: Still, after his brilliant performances, especially in Little Odessa and American History X, you would think he'd have a much more visible career. But he fell out of sight. Where do actors like him go?
JW: Well, as I said, he was a famous child. Then he specialized in playing morose young men with problems. In Pecker, he was a happy kid. I think Eddie's had some problems in life, too, that were very well documented in the press. He is a fine actor. He was not rescued at all; he had done a lot of work, and did he a lot of work right after Pecker.
BJ: What about Tab Hunter in Polyester?
JW: It wasn't like Tab was looking for work. And he started making his own movies after Polyester. He made Lust in the Dust. As for Melanie Griffith, she was a star when she made Cecil B. Demented (2000). Kathleen Turner got a huge amount of money to make Serial Mom (1994). She was not being rescued from anywhere.
BJ: But you sort of reformulated how everyone looked at her.
JW: I think Kathleen got some new fans. That film plays on Mother's Day a lot.
BJ: Then there’s Joey Heatherton.
JW: She wasn't a star. At the time, she had just been arrested. She had been in prison for, like, strangling the woman at the passport desk. I don't blame her; I've waited in those lines. They harassed her because she didn't have the exact change. Who knew you had to have exact change? In Cry-Baby, I certainly had everyone. Joe Dallesandro. Patricia Hearst played Traci Lord's mother and David Nelson was her father. That was a sort of bizarre family. Imagine: from sitcoms to trials to porn. Actors from every world that ever influenced me.
BJ: Do these actors realize why they were cast?
JW: Well, Traci Lords reinvented herself. And so did Johnny Depp. They made fun of the image they had. They wanted to change. Patricia Hearst didn’t want to be a famous victim any more. So they all used me, too, in a way, and then they went on to a lot of other things. Johnny Depp has had one of the best careers in the world. Patricia Hearst has made five movies with me. She can sign an autograph now. Who wants to be a famous victim?
BJ: Have you picked up any new hobbies since you've stopped attending murder trials?
JW: Hobbies? What an insulting thing to ask! I'm not a dabbler.
BJ: So we'd never catch you playing badminton?
JW: I've had no hobbies EVER. That’s an insult.
BJ: You now have no body fat.
JW: I lost thirty pounds. When I quit smoking, I gained thirty pounds. Then, basically, I just changed how I eat. I'm not on a diet; I've never been to a gym in my life. I like Cooking Light magazine; I make the recipes from there all the time. Then once a week I'll have bacon on Saturdays. I have my candy. I eat irresponsibly on Saturdays only.
interview Brandon Judell
John Waters photography Iké Udé click image to enlarge John Waters' trademark mustache is a tribute to Little Richard. His favorite childhood memory: visiting a scrap yard and discovering real blood in the seat of a wrecked car. Among his well-publicized eccentricities: subscribing to over eighty magazines and attending murder trials religiously.
Even more mirthful are Waters' self-referential quotes: "My hobby is extreme Catholic behavior — before the Reformation." "Some call me director, producer, filmmaker. I prefer to call myself 'Pube King.'" And, of course: "To me, bad taste is what entertainment is all about. If someone vomits watching one of my films, it's like getting a standing ovation. But one must remember that there is such a thing as good bad taste and bad bad taste."
An extreme example of good bad taste in Waters' latest epic, A Dirty Shame, which stars Tracy Ullman, Johnny Knoxville, and Chris Isaak as folks stuck in a town with a plague of sexual orgies only Dionysus could approve of. Slant magazine calls it "subversively wholesome." A typical line of dialogue: "Don't you find it weird that everyone in this town has a penis?"
What else would one expect from the director who gave us the late Divine in Pink Flamingos (1972), Female Trouble (1974) and Hairspray (1988)? (The very same Hairspray that's now a Broadway hit.) Add to the picture his seriously respected art exhibits, and John Waters might now be justly labeled the Leonardo de Vinci of sleaze.
The following chat took place in the Regency Hotel’s coffee shop.
Brandon Judell: Your photography, not surprisingly, incorporates movies into its subject matter. Those shots of Lana Turner taken from the rear, for example.
John Waters: Yeah, Lana Backwards.
BJ: Would you say your artwork parodies film as much as your film Pecker (1998) parodied the art world?
JW: Certainly. Oh, yeah. I collect contemporary art; it's my passion. I go to every show, I read about it. It's my other life. The art world liked Pecker — people thought it would be mad, but it was very, very supportive. I wasn't mean about it, but I think I nailed it. Is my art a parody? Sure. It's about the film business. It's using the vocabulary of contemporary art, which is not something that filmmakers are familiar with. And they should be. It's a very different world. But just because you like my films doesn't mean you have to like my art, or vice versa. I've kept it separate, and I'll continue to do so.
BJ: Everyone who's a Waters' fanatic is dying to see The Diane Linkletter Story, but it hasn't been shown in decades. (Divine starred as the ill-fated daughter of Art Linkletter, the host of "Kids Say the Darndest Things." She took acid and jumped out of a window.)
JW: It was an experiment. It was a camera test, actually — I had to test this camera, so we shot it. It was an "instant" movie, which started a trend, for five minutes. It certainly inspired the Cockettes' Tricia's Wedding. I'm surprised that they don't make them today; I don't know why they don't have "Jenna and Tonic." I think the New York Post had a lot about the Bush daughter when she was drinking. They could do Michael Jackson. They could do Uncle Ed, the guy in Philadelphia who collected dirty underpants from straight boys — who they got beer money from for twenty years, without telling, until they found his warehouse. These are great stories that could be instant movies. Roles that drag queens are dying to play. With all this digital equipment now, you could do a movie in a day, easily. With 16 millimeter, it was hard; you had to take it to the lab. You had to edit it.
BJ: IFC has a reality show called "Film School." Do you have the sense that there are too many people making films today?
JW: There are. I get a lot of films to watch; I can't watch them any more. I stopped saying yes to directors. They just kept piling up. They were mostly really bad. It's a terrible thing to say. That's okay; all you need is one that's fine. I don't like reality shows; I've never seen one. I'm a member of the Writers Guild, I'm in SAG, I'm in AFTRA. I'm for scripts with dialogue, with performances. My life is a reality show. Everybody has a great reality show if you go out, if you live a life. I think the only people who really love reality shows don't go out of the house. If you're a couch potato, then you watch it on television. I don't understand it. It's a mystery to me.
BJ: Now Polar Express is coming out for Christmas.
JW: What's that?
I don't like reality shows; I’ve never seen one. I'm for scripts with dialogue,
with performances. My life is a reality show.
BJ: A feature cartoon that looks as though it's using human actors.
JW: Oh yes, they don't even need to have actors any more. I'm against that, too. Vehemently.
BJ: You've discovered many actors, but you've also employed a whole bunch Hollywood had turned its back on. Edward Furlong, for instance, who seemed to have disappeared until you gave him the lead in Pecker.
JW: Well, he was a child star who became older. The whole film got financed because of his extreme popularity in Japan.
BJ: Still, after his brilliant performances, especially in Little Odessa and American History X, you would think he'd have a much more visible career. But he fell out of sight. Where do actors like him go?
JW: Well, as I said, he was a famous child. Then he specialized in playing morose young men with problems. In Pecker, he was a happy kid. I think Eddie's had some problems in life, too, that were very well documented in the press. He is a fine actor. He was not rescued at all; he had done a lot of work, and did he a lot of work right after Pecker.
BJ: What about Tab Hunter in Polyester?
JW: It wasn't like Tab was looking for work. And he started making his own movies after Polyester. He made Lust in the Dust. As for Melanie Griffith, she was a star when she made Cecil B. Demented (2000). Kathleen Turner got a huge amount of money to make Serial Mom (1994). She was not being rescued from anywhere.
BJ: But you sort of reformulated how everyone looked at her.
JW: I think Kathleen got some new fans. That film plays on Mother's Day a lot.
BJ: Then there’s Joey Heatherton.
JW: She wasn't a star. At the time, she had just been arrested. She had been in prison for, like, strangling the woman at the passport desk. I don't blame her; I've waited in those lines. They harassed her because she didn't have the exact change. Who knew you had to have exact change? In Cry-Baby, I certainly had everyone. Joe Dallesandro. Patricia Hearst played Traci Lord's mother and David Nelson was her father. That was a sort of bizarre family. Imagine: from sitcoms to trials to porn. Actors from every world that ever influenced me.
BJ: Do these actors realize why they were cast?
JW: Well, Traci Lords reinvented herself. And so did Johnny Depp. They made fun of the image they had. They wanted to change. Patricia Hearst didn’t want to be a famous victim any more. So they all used me, too, in a way, and then they went on to a lot of other things. Johnny Depp has had one of the best careers in the world. Patricia Hearst has made five movies with me. She can sign an autograph now. Who wants to be a famous victim?
BJ: Have you picked up any new hobbies since you've stopped attending murder trials?
JW: Hobbies? What an insulting thing to ask! I'm not a dabbler.
BJ: So we'd never catch you playing badminton?
JW: I've had no hobbies EVER. That’s an insult.
BJ: You now have no body fat.
JW: I lost thirty pounds. When I quit smoking, I gained thirty pounds. Then, basically, I just changed how I eat. I'm not on a diet; I've never been to a gym in my life. I like Cooking Light magazine; I make the recipes from there all the time. Then once a week I'll have bacon on Saturdays. I have my candy. I eat irresponsibly on Saturdays only.
